


golden boy

by silverspoonedbeanies



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverspoonedbeanies/pseuds/silverspoonedbeanies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"she was fated to look at these pictures of a trust fund baby and not a dignified young man who would have been the CEO of the company, someone she might have worked beside, had a partner in"</p>
<p>dedicated to all of you who continue to make fun of the golden boy....</p>
            </blockquote>





	golden boy

Felicity had just walked in the door to her barely put-together apartment. 

Boxes lined the perimeter of her new home here in Starling City. She had only been in the city for two weeks. Only been at Queen Consolidated for two weeks. Yet, it felt like a million years since she was walking around the campus at MIT and even longer since she walked the strip to and from school in Las Vegas.

The pace she found in Starling was exactly what Felicity had needed.  

From the bright city lights to the cozy corner office at the IT Department in Queen Consolidated. It was a perfect fit.

Due to the disappearance of the late CEO, Robert Queen, and his son, Oliver Queen, stocks had dropped and many people had quit their jobs thinking that the company was going to follow the head down to the bottom of the North China Sea. The only thing people had not brought into account was QC’s CFO Walter Steele, who basically saved the whole company and potentially created a stronger company out of the wreckage. As Mr. Steele had cut many ties from other major companies in Starling, like Merlyn Global and others, creating a higher-grossing company for all of the West Coast.

It was none other than Mr. Steele who had sent Felicity a hand written invitation to work at Queen Consolidated. He had seen her work at MIT, all of her merits and grades, and the many hours in working overtime at internship after internship where she cleaned up almost every IT Department. Much to Felicity’s mothers dismay, she accepted the promising offer from Mr. Steele and moved up to Starling with no friends or relatives close to keep an eye on the barely-20 year old Smoak. 

Felicity told herself she was prepared to live off on her own, working till her heart was content at a successful company like Queen Consolidated. What Felicity wasn’t ready for was all of the daily “adult” tasks that already exhausted Felicity.

She wished she had someone to do her laundry, to clean her dishes, and to go grab groceries; especially to unpack the leftover boxes that began to pain Felicity’s tired eyes. Felicity shoved off her heels next to the box marked “MOVIES & BOOKS”, deciding she could probably finish up the pint of mint chip in her freezer for dinner, grab a movie she hadn’t watched in ages, and enjoy a quiet start to her weekend.  

Ciphering through the box of mixed media, a CD thrown in here and there, she found a slightly torn up version of _13 Going On 30_ that she had probably taken from her mom’s apartment back in Vegas. Felicity set the cardboard lid back on the box, tossed the movie onto the couch so she could make her way into her room to change out of her skirt and blouse and into something more comfortable.

Once she had changed and grabbed the ice cream carton from the freezer she sat down with one of her bright yellow blankets, forgetting entirely that she needed to put the DVD into the player she instead grabbed the remote and flicked through some local channels hoping to find something to watch.

Felicity had just passed a local news station when she felt her heart sink a little lower into her stomach, immediately pressing back to the previous channel.

On the news station, a memorial program for the one-year anniversary of Robert and Oliver Queen’s death played. It made Felicity feel a little sick just remembering back to when she had originally heard the news of their boat going down. Staring at the photo that covered the screen of a young, baby-faced Oliver Queen on some red carpet event a year or so before his life had ended, while the newscaster droned on about the two men and their remaining family. 

It was a shame, Felicity thought. There was something about the way his eyes shined a bright blue full of some hidden treasure, how his defined jaw would be even sharper if he had lived a few years longer to see the barely-there-baby fat disappear for good. Maybe she would have ran into him one day at Queen Consolidated. Their paths fated to cross, but fate had other ideas for this lifetime. Instead she was fated to look at these pictures of a trust fund baby and not a dignified young man who would have been the CEO of the company, someone she might have worked beside, had a partner in.

Felicity had heard all the stories. She was used to grabbing the People or US Weekly from the coffee tables in the casino’s lounges, reading up on the stints Oliver “BRAT” Queen had gone thru the week before. All of them painted him out to be some golden boy who never gave a shit, and maybe he was; but even now, Felicity was not convinced.

He could flash that, probably, multi-million dollar smile as many times as he wanted towards the bright flashing lights of the paparazzi, there was still something that creeped through his “fuckboy” exterior.

The photo they continued to show of Oliver and his father made Felicity want to fall over laughing, it was probably not one of the best photo’s they could have used, all that mattered to her was that he still managed to look cute. Cute enough, maybe cute wasn’t the word she needed to be using, hot enough, that if fate had gone another way Felicity would have hoped and prayed to make eye contact with those stunning, crystal-like blue eyes. Maybe to see him pull one of those classic smirk’s she saw on all the tabloid cover’s so she could recount the tale and prove to Missy back in Vegas that he really was incredibly adorable, _even_ with that godforsaken haircut. That he wasn’t what the news and a couple of terrible pictures painted him out to be.

Once the segment had ended and Felicity had gotten up to put the movie into the disc player, thoughts of this past playboy danced through her head like the sugar plum fairies that came about during Christmas time for all of the secular world.

She fell asleep thinking about the “teensy bit” creepy smile, and the blues eyes that had lost out on so much life to fate.

—

Felicity had seen the photograph many times before, pre- her moving into Thea’s loft and most definitely post- moving in. It had caught her eye more than a few times and it made Felicity smile whenever she recalled her many nights remembering his trust-fund baby haircut; even before she had him walk into her office.

Once at Caesars Palace in Vegas, while she waited for her mom’s shift to get over.

Once when she sat in her new Starling City apartment on the anniversary of his death.

Once more a few later when Felicity had to make a trip up to the head offices and saw a picture frame very similar to this one.

And then a few mismatched times over the past four years with him.

She now stood in the loft that Oliver and Felicity shared with Thea.

_Their loft. Their home._ How strange it was somedays to her that all those years ago the strange feeling that pulled at her heartstrings whenever she heard that Oliver was dead was fate reminding her it had its control on everything. When Felicity had thought Oliver was fated to never have a fully chiseled jaw or grow into a successful CEO to his father’s company. That they were never meant to fall in love together, to never meet the better half of their souls.

Well, fate was not meant to be on one of those. He had tried to be CEO and it didn’t work out, that was fate’s funny game. The thing Felicity had not envisioned for her own fate was that she would one day be in the place she once had met Walter Steele in. That her fate was to one day become apart of the “family business”, to be the CEO of, the now, Queen Incorporated.

What felt like a lifetime ago of doing her own laundry and running to the corner market on her own was now replaced with a not-so-baby faced brat, who now did all of the laundry for her and even cooked most nights when he wasn’t off saving the city. Felicity couldn’t even comprehend what her life might have been if fate hadn’t given Oliver a second chance, of letting him throw that playboy smirk her way and being able to see first hand that his blue eyes were full of something that created a hero, not a trustfund baby.

Setting the frame back down next to one of the photo’s Oliver and Felicity had sent home to Thea when they had gone on their little summer adventure, she felt two warm, strong hands curl around her middle section.

“What are you doing over here? Your birthday party is in full swing,” he began pressing feather soft kisses to the side of her neck.

“It really isn’t my birthday party, Oliver.”

“Ok you may be right, but your birthday _is_ close enough to New Years that we can celebrate both? Besides what are you doing looking at this terrible picture?”

Felicity turned around in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck, “I’ll have to tell you a funny story about it one day.” Oliver smiled down at her, then she saw a flicker of some realization in his eye, “what was that?”

“You just reminded me of a funny story _I’ll_ have to tell you about,” he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and then took her hand in his. “I think S.J. got to those cupcakes of yours before you.”


End file.
